


Party Hardy

by KlainebowsAndDramioneflies



Category: Glee
Genre: College, Drinking, Drinking Games, Drunk Sex, Games, Klaine (Past) - Freeform, M/M, Never Have I Ever, Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 23:00:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13305162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KlainebowsAndDramioneflies/pseuds/KlainebowsAndDramioneflies
Summary: So, maybe Kurt never forgave Blaine for cheating after he'd barely been away from Ohio for a few months. And maybe they'd stayed friends, but only friends, and maybe that was okay. But maybe Kurt's just a little tired of being one of the only members (sure they graduated, but who really counts that?) of New Directions without a date to the annual Berry House Party. And maybe that's about to change...





	Party Hardy

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, I'm still here! Yep. LOL Sorry I've been gone so long. So, this is an old fic I finally finished, and I'm not totally happy with it, but I still wanted to post it because I really love the majority of the piece. I'm just not that thrilled with the ending. And I think I need to get back into the swing of things with my smut writing (which is crazy because, I mean, it's me, right?). Anyway... here's some Puckurt for ya. Hope I still have readers! And all my other work is going to be getting some love and attention soon!
> 
> (Be on the lookout for new chapters for WIPs, sequels, prequels, new fics and some drabbles! It's fun times, guys!)

 

Whoever decided that Christmas break was the best time to have their annual party was an idiot. It was cold and slushy and icy and snowy and Kurt was going to scream if his designer boots were ruined by the sludge he'd had to step in when he hopped out of his brother's truck upon reaching Rachel's dads' house. He was also cursing the whole 'moving to New York and selling the Nav to afford it' issue, since he had to ride in a  _truck_  with  _Finn_. He loved his step-brother dearly, but seriously. Kurt hated being a passenger on a good day. This... well, this was not a good day.

 

It was the middle of senior year for about half the old glee club, and the others were half way through their first year away from home. Kurt had just gotten his second chance at NYADA through the winter showcase, and now that he was finally going to live his 'dream' he was feeling... well, not as excited as he thought he would.

 

The truth was, Rachel was insufferable about how fantastic she was and how she was just meant to be at NYADA, half the people there seemed to already dislike Kurt simply because he was picked out to 'try out' again at the showcase, and he didn't even have his boyfriend to pick him up when he was feeling like the whole world was against him. Because his boyfriend couldn't go a month with him out of the state without cheating. Kurt had to not think about that any time he was around Blaine or he'd end up hitting him. Or at least verbally bitch-slapping the ex-Warbler. And this was supposed to be a party.

 

When the door was answered, Kurt didn't even pay attention to which of his friends opened it. He simply strode in and slipped off his soggy boots, bemoaning their state and cursing the weather in a grumbling rant.

 

"Hello to you, too, Ice Queen," Puck's lazy tone reached Kurt's ears and he turned to glare at the jock, who shook his head and smirked. "Yep. That's the Ice Queen glare I haven't earned in a while. Never thought I'd say I missed  _that_." He laughed and Kurt cocked a brow, still glaring. Puck just kept laughing and started for the basement, following Finn who had already gone down to find Rachel, who he was still trying for? Kurt really wasn't sure what was going on with the two of them. Or with the Brody situation. He was really just... confused. Finchel was always confusing, though.

 

With a shrug and a sigh at his most likely ruined boots, Kurt followed Puck down the stairs, still bundled in his coat and scarf. He figured he'd just find somewhere down there to set them. Less chance of losing things that way. Maybe.

 

"Kurt!" Rachel squealed, jumping up and hugging him as if they didn't see each other every damn day in the city. "Oh, I'm so glad you're here! I think we're only waiting on Sam and Blaine now. They said they were coming together, right?" she asked Mercedes, who rolled her eyes and confirmed the statement.

 

Kurt still wondered if he wasn't at least partially right with his initial thought on Sam. He was spending an awful lot of time with Blaine lately... a lot of alone time. And everyone knew Blaine had a major crush there. He was terrible at hiding his emotions.

 

Looking around, Kurt noticed some people were missing. "Where's Mike? And Quinn?" He knew that it was maybe a little unrealistic to expect all the graduates to make it back, but wouldn't they be home for the holidays anyway? That was why he and Rachel had decided this was the best time. (And, oh, yeah. He'd have to yell at  _himself_  regarding the cold and the slush... Oops.)

 

"Apparently Quinn's got some boyfriend at Yale and she's with his family in Aspen for winter break," Tina explained, eyes big and hungry like she wished that was her instead. "And Mike's vacationing somewhere with his family."

 

The Mike note was tacked on like some afterthought that didn't really matter. She sniffed and turned back to her drink, and Kurt figured there was something more there but didn't ask. Maybe Mike had found someone new as well. Whatever the case may be, it seemed 'Klaine' wasn't the only power couple to have fallen apart with graduation.

 

Artie wheeled over to Tina and offered her a hand, mentioning refills and escorting her to the bar, and Kurt wondered what was happening there. He watched Finn take Rachel aside and talk while getting drinks as well. Apparently everyone was crashing at the Berry house that night. Kurt just shrugged and turned when he heard his name again.

 

"Here ya go, your majesty," Puck teased, setting a pink drink in Kurt's hand and grinning at him. The countertenor rolled his eyes and took a sip, then gasped and coughed, eyeing the innocent-looking drink with a narrowed gaze. "It's like you. Looks sweet and unassuming, but it'll knock you on your ass when you underestimate it." Puck winked, he fucking  _winked_ , then strutted over to the middle of the room and started pulling pillows and cushions off of furniture and throwing them into the center of the open space.

 

Santana quirked a brow, looking at him from her place curled around Brittany in a large armchair. "The hell are you doing, Puckerman?" She sounded pretty drunk already, and Kurt wondered what she'd even been up to lately. He didn't get much chance to worry about that, or to focus on Puck's answer, however, because Sam and Blaine chose that moment to come barelling down the stairs.

 

"Hey guys!" Kurt blinked. The duo were in sync. It was so weird. Why in the hell were Sam Evans and Blaine Anderson talking together and walking together and... attached at the damn hip? It was just... weird. Kurt put his cup to his lips and drank til half of it was gone, the pink mix of alcohol going straight to his head as he smacked his lips together. Yeah, he was going to get drunk tonight. He was pretty sure he needed that, though.

 

The happy greetings and hugs and all were interrupted when Puck cleared his throat and hollered for attention. Kurt perked up, thinking how he'd have to ask the jock what he'd put in that drink since he'd soon be in need of another. "Alright! Let's get everyone in a circle and play some drinking games!" he called, and a mix of cheers and groans filled the room. "None of that. I got some new ones for you all to enjoy, so fill up your drinks and sit your asses down."

 

Kurt was about to go attempt to remake the concoction Puck had given him earlier, but was stopped when the jock in question grabbed his cup and went to the bar with it. "You sit your pretty ass down, Princess. I've got you." And Kurt blushed (Why the hell was he blushing? What even?) and plopped down on a large pillow.

 

When Puck finally joined the circle, he had a few bottles of booze, a beer for himself, and a full drink for Kurt. He sat beside Kurt and set down all of his supplies, reaching in front of himself and cracking his knuckles rather loudly. Kurt winced.

 

"Alright, ladies and germs. Let's get this party started," Puck crowed, cracking his beer open and taking a swig. He looked around, then started explaining what would be their first game. "Getting things warmed up, let's do something  _easy_ , shall we? It's something I call 'I Bet' and it's pretty simple. You pick someone and bet they won't do something. That person either proves you wrong and does the thing, making you take a shot, or proves you right and takes a shot themself."

 

Most people seemed to get it, but some were still confused, so Puck sighed and glanced at his best friend. "For example. If I picked Finn, I might say 'I bet you can't do the worm,' and then he might actually try it, which would be fucking hilarious, but he'd probably fail and have to drink anyway. But if he did a good enough job and you all decided he passed the bet, I'd have to take a shot. Got it?" Everyone nodded while Finn mumbled about how he'd improved his dance moves after years of Glee.

 

"I start since it's my house!" Rachel squealed, eyeing the shot glasses Puck had just passed out along with the bottle of some flavored vodka that looked awfully intimidating. "Um... Kurt!" she got a wicked gleam in her eye, and Kurt groaned. "I bet you won't blow the high F in Defying Gravity on purpose again."

 

Kurt's pride was at war with itself. He had already decided he wasn't going to lose any bets because, well, he wasn't a wuss. He was brave and determined and he also didn't want to get too drunk. But this was a huge matter of pride and, dammit, he could hit that fucking note in his sleep! He snarled at his best friend as he shoved his shot glass at Puck, downing the fruity flavored fire with a grimmace. "Oh, it's on now, Berry," he growled, not even bothering to try and figure out what the hell he'd just drunk.

 

He thought about picking someone else, but why not go right back after her while the game was still just starting? Kurt smirked and narrowed his eyes at Rachel. "Alright, Rach. I bet you won't tell everyone where we went last Friday night and what you bought when you were 'missing Finn' so much."

 

There were already catcalls, and Kurt thought for sure Rachel was about to blush and take a shot when Santana had to open her big mouth. "Oh, come on. It's  _Berry and Hummel_. They probably went to a library and joined a knitting circle. Made matching sweaters and hers is size gargantuan for the jolly green giant over here." She motioned to Finn, who shot her a glare.

 

Of course, that made Rachel more determined, so she puffed out her chest and bragged, making Kurt groan because, one, his personal life was now out in the open, and two, he had to down another shot.

 

"For your information, Santana, Kurt and I went to an  _adult store_  and I bought a..." she stage whispered, "vibrator!" Santana actually screamed with how impressed she was and enveloped the blushing brunette in a hug. Kurt groaned.

 

"Drink up, Princess," Puck teased, filling Kurt's shot and watching as he downed it, wincing at the burn.

 

Kurt glared at the jock, lips puckered as the fruity aftertaste assaulted his tongue. "What the fuck flavor is that anyway?" He ignored the wiggling brow at his swear. Puck really needed to get over the fact that Kurt wasn't a blushing high schooler anymore.

 

"Dragonfruit I think? I dunno. Something that was on sale so I got like four bottles of it. Just drink it and start going numb, Hummel," he reasoned. Kurt shot him yet another glare, then tried to focus on the game at hand.

 

There was some commotion as Blaine tried to do whatever it was Rachel had bet him about. Apparently he failed, though, because the brunette was cackling and Blaine pouted with a bow tie half done around his wrists? Kurt blinked. "She bet he couldn't tie it with his teeth..." Finn murmured in his ear, and when did Finn get on Kurt's other side anyway? Apparently his brother wasn't feeling so fond of being near Santana after the 'gigantor' comments because he now plopped between Kurt and Rachel instead, much to Rachel's delight.

 

"Interesting bet. Interesting interpretation of said bet..." Kurt muttered, staring at his pouting ex and wondering when that irritating flutter would leave his chest. Damn his heart for not understanding that Blaine was a definite 'no' forever more. He still found it hard to be around the boy as 'friends' without being on the cusp of a nervous breakdown. It was... a problem.

 

The dapper male's voice broke through Kurt's inner turmoil, and the New Yorker found himself groaning. Why were his dearest friends picking on him so? "Kurt!" He called, sharing a look with Rachel that said the two of them were definitely in cahoots. And that meant that the rest were going to pick up on that. And they'd all probably gun for him as well. Dammit. New Directions were trying to get Kurt Hummel drunk! "I bet you can't do a perfect split in those jeans."

 

Well,  _that_  was obvious. Kurt gave Blaine an incredulous look, grumbled about cheating ex-boyfriends, winced at the poor taste of a joke, apologized, then took two shots because of how much Blaine looked like a kicked puppy. "Damn, Hummel. You have a mean tongue when you're losing..." Puck murmured, and Kurt flipped him off before continuing the game.

 

"Alright, Finn. I bet you don't know how to properly spell the first name of Rachel's hero." He sat back smugly, knowing Finn would put the extra 'a' in Barbra. What Finn actually did made Kurt sputter so much that Puck had to smack him on the back to make sure he could breathe again.

 

The absolute moron Kurt called his brother actually grinned and said "That's easy! F-I-N-N!" and Rachel squealed and threw herself at him in a hug. Everyone else either 'aww'ed or (Santana and Puck) gagged. Kurt just gaped. Puck filled his shot glass.

 

"You have  _got_  to be kidding me!" He practically screamed, glaring at the horrible clear liquid that was quickly becoming his worst enemy. "When and why did this turn into a game of 'get Kurt wasted' anyway?" He was ignored other than some encouragement to knock it back, so he did with a growl. "Oh my god, Puck, I hate you so much for buying this shit!" Everyone laughed. At him.

 

Kurt was already getting drunk. Oh, this night was going to be a special kind of hell...

 

The rest of the group finally started picking each other in an attempt to keep Kurt from alcohol poisoning (or at least that was what he suspected) so it was a little while before the bets came back to him, and by then people were getting a little tipsy, too. Puck looked at him and slurred. "Hey Princess," he narrowed his eyes and smirked. "Bet you won't do a body shot off these abs..." He trailed his hand over his six pack and Kurt finally seemed to notice that Puck's shirt had disappeared.

 

Apparently he'd discarded it when he got the new vodka bottle. Hmm. Odd. Kurt looked at him and shrugged, then blinked and thought again. "Wait. If I do your bet I'm still taking a fucking shot! You suck, Noah!" he bitched, but shoved the jock onto his back anyway as Puck laughed.

 

"Yeah, but I'm doing one, too," he reasoned, and Kurt shoved a lime wedge in his mouth to shut him up. Since it was his bet and not a punishment shot, Kurt decided he got to pick his poison and grabbed the tequila. Anything to kill that stupid  _dragonfruit_  flavor. Puck had all the supplies for tequila shots at the little makeshift bar, so Kurt grabbed the salt as well and leaned over his challenge.

 

There was an odd gleam in Puck's eyes, but Kurt was a little too drunk to care as he shook some salt over Puck's happy trail and poured his shot over the dip along Puck's naval, laughing at the way he squirmed when it filled his belly button. "Ready, tiger?" Kurt purred, then leaned down to trail his tongue from the top of Puck's jeans (which hung very low, he might have noticed) all the way to the start of the tequila, swallowing the salt before sucking the liquid and sweat from Puck's abs.

 

There was cheering and screaming and shocked voices in the background, but Kurt hardly noticed. He lapped up all the tequila, then leaned in and bit the lime, his lips crashing against Puck's in a bruising way that mimicked a kiss but didn't quite match it. It was all too barbaric. Brutal. Harsh. Kurt pulled the lime away from Puck and sucked on it a while, then tossed it aside with a grin. "Enjoy your dragonfruit shit, Noah."

 

Santana clapped and Finn looked shell-shocked. Blaine looked kind of like Finn while Sam said something about how hot that was. It was all rather confusing for Kurt's drunk brain. He settled in his spot in the circle, then looked back to Puck. "Oh, and Noah? I bet you can't pick a new fucking game."

 

\----

 

After Kurt weaseled his way out of doing a shot for Puck changing games, it was decided the everyone was getting drunk a little too quickly, and since no one really wanted alcohol poisoning, it was decided that shots would be avoided for a little while. Instead, Puck declared that they were switching to 'I've Never' and swigs of drinks- mixed or beer, whatever, when a deed had been done.

 

"I've never had anal sex!" squealed a rather drunk Rachel Berry, making Kurt blush crimson and swear at her. Apparently it was still 'pick on Kurt' time in her brain. A few others drank, and Finn sputtered at Puck when he took a swig of his beer.

 

"Dude, she didn't say 'receive' she said 'had.' I've definitely fucked an ass before," he bragged, and Kurt shook his head with a groan. He might be drunk, but he was definitely not drunk enough to deal with Finn and Puck.

 

The countertenor decided to take his turn next, screwing the whole 'go in a circle' bullshit. "I've never given a bathroom blow job," he said with a pointed smirk at Blaine. Maybe it was a little mean, exposing his ex like that, but, well, Kurt was drunk and tired of being picked on. Screw it.

 

Blaine sputtered, then took a drink, then grumbled. "You cheat. You totally were part of a bathroom blow job..."

 

Kurt smiled. "Semantics, sweetie. I said 'give'. I wasn't the one on my knees." And Puck actually snorted while Santana and, shockingly, Rachel, sipped at their drinks.

 

"Oh, don't have too much fun, Noah. All of you are going down. You wanna pick on Kurt? Well, get ready for some revenge..." and the look on Kurt's face was nothing but utterly terrifying as he stared each of his friends down one after another...

 

"Alright, losers. My turn," Santana spoke up, apparently ignoring Kurt's threat. She flipped her hair and smirked around the circle. "I've never crushed on a guy before."

 

Rachel let out an indignant squeak while others started groaning and reaching for their cups. "You can't say that, Santana! You've dated most of the guys in this room!"

 

The Latina simply rolled her eyes and relaxed back on her hands. "Doesn't mean I liked 'em. It's called a  _beard_ , Berry. Now drink up!"

 

At that, all the girls (other than Santana), Kurt, Blaine, Sam (huh...), and... Puck? drank.

 

"Dude!" Finn looked at Puck like he had just sprouted another head and Kurt couldn't help but snort with laughter. Oh dear. He was definitely rather drunk. Oh well. "You like dudes?"

 

Puck reached over and smacked Finn on the back of his head, which had his still-bare chest up against Kurt and wasn't that a little strange?- before settling easily back in his place beside the countertenor. "A dude,  _dude_ ," he grumbled. "And chill the fuck out. It isn't like I'm sporting a boner for you or anything." Puck made a face at his best friend and shook his head, nose scrunched in disgust.

 

Before Finn could argue about how appealing he was, Artie decided to take a turn at the 'get Kurt wasted' party. "I've never had sex in a Navigator," he stated proudly.

 

Kurt's bitch glare was heavy as he drank along with Blaine, who pouted about it not being a 'get Kurt  _and Blaine_  wasted' party. Then Kurt's jaw dropped as Finn and Rachel both took swigs of their drinks.

 

"What the actual fuck?!" He screeched at them, and Finn got up, running to the other side of the circle, quickly running out of places to sit. "You two are dead to me! Dead!"

 

He didn't know when his step-brother and once-best-friend had stolen his car and defiled it, but they were  _not_  his best friend or brother anymore. They'd lost those privileges when they did  _that_  in his baby!

 

"You are so not drunk enough yet," Puck muttered at him, then said a bit louder, "I've never been Prom Queen."

 

Kurt was sorely tempted to throw his drink in Puck's face for that. "Fuck you, Noah," he snarled, taking a very long drink from the solo cup while Rachel daintily sipped beside him.

 

There was a strange sort of grin on Puck's face that Kurt couldn't really place, and he didn't much like it. He would almost call it lecherous, and it had to do with Kurt at prom? It was just too weird, so Kurt stopped trying to think about it too much, finished his drink, and shoved the cup at Puck. "Refill. And can we do a new game again? You guys suck and I can't even get my revenge."

 

A groan sounded from across the circle and suddenly Santana's voice carried loudly over to where Kurt and Puck had been interacting. "How 'bout we cut the games and you just tell Hummel how much you want to bone him, and you two go take care of that, hmm? Then the rest of us can get our party on and you can remove the stick from Porcelain's ass!"

 

There were definitely multiple reactions to that, but the only one Kurt really cared about was Puck's, as the jock had tossed aside Kurt's empty cup and cocked a grin on his face, hovering over Kurt in an almost predatory way. "I'm cool with that," he growled.

 

Then Kurt squeaked as he was dragged toward Puck, who picked him up in a fireman's carry, throwing him unceremoniously over his shoulder and quickly taking the two of them up the stairs toward one of the Berrys' guest rooms.

 

"Oh my god, Noah! This is so undignified. What are you doing?!" Kurt bent his knees and grabbed Puck's ass- because what the hell else was he supposed to hold onto?- hoping he wasn't about to take a nose dive down Rachel Berry's basement stairs. He had no need to worry, though, as he soon found himself bouncing on a rather fluffy bed, the door to the room being shut and locked by one Noah Puckerman. "Care to explain?"

 

Even having drank a  _lot_  of alcohol, Kurt was still confused and alert enough to ask questions. Since when did Puck even consider sex with guys? And since when did that 'sex with guys' include 'sex with Kurt Hummel'? He was definitely interested, but he wasn't going to be some pity fuck, and he wasn't going to be a drunken mistake, either.

 

"How the fuck more obvious do I have to be Kurt?" Puck asked, the glint in his eyes looking a bit desperate. Kurt tilted his head at him as the jock ran his hands through his mohawk. "I've been hitting on you since you fuckin' got here. I checked out your ass all last year- Santana noticed! Jesus, Hummel. You're the most frustrating person I've ever wanted."

 

Kurt tilted his head at that, unsure whether to grin or pout. "I think I'll take that as a compliment..." he said slowly, licking his lips at the way Puck's chest was heaving up and down from his outburst. "You know I was dating Blaine last year though, right?"

 

"Why the fuck do you think I didn't jump you then?" Puck was suddenly on the bed and Kurt swallowed audibly. He could still smell the odd mix of beer and that awful dragonfruit shit on Puck's breath, and the jock's torso was sticky with the residue of tequila when Kurt reached out to run his fingers over the muscular skin. Puck shivered at the touch, supporting himself over Kurt's body with just his well-muscled arms. "Don't know how glad I was that he fucked up. Hobbit never deserved you."

 

Questions ran rampant in Kurt's head. Would Puck be better? What was he even offering? Did he plan to move to New York now? Settle down? What did any of this even mean? But none of those questions were for right now. He could ask everything tomorrow, when they were sober and probably hung over and in desperate need of coffee.

 

Right now, Puck was pressing his lips against Kurt's and his hips were grinding down against Kurt's and there was nothing to do but open his mouth and jerk his own hips upward.

 

"Tell me if you're too drunk for this, Princess," Puck practically grunted in Kurt's ear, one hand moving to the waist of his sinfully tight pants as Kurt continued rocking his hips upward.

 

The New Yorker shook his head and cursed, sliding his hands into Puck's mohawk and grabbing tightly, making the jock hiss in a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Not too drunk, Noah. Too many clothes. C'mon already!"

 

That was all the encouragement Puck needed, as he quickly shed his only remaining layer- some well-worn jeans that already hung low on his hips, then tugged pathetically at Kurt's pants until the countertenor took over and divested himself of all clothing in next to no time. "Well, alright then," Puck commented a bit stupidly, staring at the wallet Kurt had pulled from his back pocket while folding his pants.

 

"I travel prepared," was the simple explanation, as Kurt opened the wallet to produce a travel packet of lube and a condom. Puck's eyes lit with desire and he licked his lips, grabbing for the packets, but Kurt 'tsk'ed at him and slid the wrapped condom between his own teeth, opening the lube and squeezing some out onto his fingers.

 

He didn't speak, due to the condom, but Puck could figure out what the countertenor wanted. He was meant to watch and learn, and Puck was totally okay with that- he needed to hold the base of his dick to keep from coming way too early anyway.

 

Lying on his back with Puck kneeling between his legs, Kurt bent his knees up and planted his feet on the bed, rolling his hips so he had the best access to his own ass. His fingers teased the crack and rim before two slid inside, and he arched his back at the pleasant sting of the stretch. He loved starting with two fingers, loved feeling that gentle ache and burn. Kurt let out a wanton moan and Puck answered with a growl of his own. It was clear the jock wouldn't have self-restraint for long, and Kurt didn't want to stretch the prep-work out.

 

He thrust and scissored his fingers a few times, then worked a third in before Puck's hands were on his knees and pushing Kurt's legs up to his chest, bending the New Yorker in on himself so that his ass was more on display and his fingers slid deeper. Kurt whimpered, fucking himself just a few more times with those three delicious fingers, then pulled them out and ripped the condom from his mouth, simultaneously opening it with his teeth.

 

"Here. Fuck, need you,  _now_." His voice was husky and broken as Kurt quivered in Puck's grasp, and he took hold of his own legs behind the knees and held himself curled up and wide open for the jock who busied himself with the condom and lube.

 

In one quick motion, Puck's long, thick cock was sheathed balls-deep inside Kurt, and he was praying to anything that might listen not to blow his load before he even really started. " _Fuck_ , Hummel," he muttered, waiting a few seconds while Kurt's face unscrunched and he stopped biting his bottom lip so hard, then finally moving his hips so he could move, if only slowly, inside the countertenor.

 

"Ohmygod,  _yes_!" Somehow the way Puck had slid into him had the jock pressing just right in Kurt, and the stretch was sending shivers up the pale man's spine. He dug his fingers into his own legs as he pulled them a little further apart, urging Puck to thrust a little deeper, go a little harder, pull out and really  _fuck him_. "Noah,  _please_."

 

Puck couldn't hold back with Kurt begging like that. He fell forward, hands on either side of Kurt's head, holding him over the man's fit and firm body- New York sure had been good to him so far- and started working his hips like a jack rabbit. He went hard and fast just like Kurt asked, angling his hips so that he'd get that low, animalistic moan every couple strokes and he could feel Kurt shuddering beneath him.

 

Puck leaned down and nipped at Kurt's earlobe before growling into his ear. "Gonna come for me, Hummel? Just from my cock? Gonna come all over yourself without your dick even being touched?" He licked the shell of Kurt's ear, then bit down on the lobe a little harder and Kurt cried out, entire body shuddering as he came- indeed without being touched.

 

The way Kurt's muscles clenched around him had Puck swearing as he continued thrusting, barely able to bite back an instant orgasm of his own, but pushing still if only to give Kurt that slight bit of oversensitive fucking before finally giving in and grunting out his own climax, coming hard into the condom while buried deep in the countertenor's ass.

 

Once he caught his breath, Puck got off of Kurt and cleaned them both up as much as he could with a pillowcase- and he knew Rachel was going to kill him for that. Oh well. Kurt worked his way under the sheets and comforter and motioned for the jock to join him, and Puck didn't argue.

 

He did, however, start to speak. "You know, I've been looking at New York and-"

 

Kurt cut him off. "Tomorrow, Noah. We'll discuss everything tomorrow. Right now, it's time for sleep." And with the thought that maybe this wasn't so random after all, and maybe it wasn't destined for failure or disappointment, Kurt Hummel fell into a relatively peaceful sleep, naked next to Noah Puckerman in the guest bedroom of the Berry household. Huh. Maybe Christmas break wasn't going to be so bad after all.


End file.
